


Dreambreaker

by WildwingSuz



Series: Deals and Dreams [2]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 10:40:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7219171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildwingSuz/pseuds/WildwingSuz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A/U after The Host (season 2, episode 2).  Mulder and Scully are finally together, but things can’t, of course, go smoothly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreambreaker

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to Dealbreaker. This begins just a few months after the events of that story. Remember that Mulder has agreed to call her Dana, though she still calls him Mulder.
> 
> Spoilers: None, but you should read Dealbreaker first to understand this. Mulder left the FBI at the end of The Host and none of the episodes after that have happened.

Thanks once again to mimic117, who is my Scully of beta readers

  

 **Dreambreaker**  
By Suzanne Feld  
Rated R

  

“Mulder, it’s me.”

 

Mulder grinned when he heard Dana’s voice.  Though it had been over two years, hearing her say that brought back memories of the short time they’d worked together.  She had a new partner on the X-Files now, Steve Kepoulis, who was an older agent counting down the days to retirement and didn’t give her any of the trouble that he had.  “Hey, what’s up?  How’s the case going?”

 

“Interesting, which I’ll tell you about in a moment.  But first, how’s William?”

 

He glanced over at the chubby baby, who was sleeping in his Pack’n’Play on the other side of the coffee table.  It had turned out to be easier to bring the little guy and his stuff to his apartment rather than his computer to Dana’s, though he hadn’t told her that.  “Fine, he hasn’t so much as sniffled since you left yesterday.  He’s sleeping now.”

 

“Ah. Good.”  Mulder was used to Dana’s concern when he watched the baby, though they both knew she’d never have left William with him on an overnight trip if she wasn’t certain he could take good care of her son.  That, and the fact that her mother was within driving distance in case something came up that he couldn’t handle.  “How’s he doing with the pacifier?”

 

Though he was impatient to hear what she’d found so far on this X-File, he tamped it down.  “I didn’t give it to him after lunch, but he still wanted the bottle before his nap,” he said.  “I think he may be done with it.”

 

“You held and rocked him, right?  You didn’t just put him in his crib with the bottle, did you?” Dana’s voice was calm but Mulder knew that if he didn’t give the right answer that would change fast. 

 

“Of course I rocked him to sleep.  I like holding him,” Mulder said truthfully.  He also didn’t want the baby crying in his apartment, as there might have been questions from his nosy neighbors as to why a single man had an infant.  Though it wasn’t an adults-only building, it would give them just another reason to stick their noses in his business.  “So, the case…?”

 

Her smile came over the phone lines through her voice.  “Thanks again for watching him, Mulder.  I feel bad asking my mom so often, and I can’t trust anyone else.”

 

“I really am happy to, Dana, and it’s no problem since I’m still doing research for my next novel and am going to be sitting around the apartment anyway.”  He was about ready to pull his hair out.  “Speaking of… got anything freaky for me yet?”

 

“As a matter of fact, yes.  I autopsied the first two victims as much as I could here, and found two odd things.”

 

“Beyond the priapism?” Mulder said, grinning. 

 

Her voice was not amused.  “You, being a man, should be more understanding,” she scolded.  “Of course, Steve’s being just as childish about it despite his age.  But yes.  One, both of them had their testicles totally drained of semen, which is unusual in itself especially since both were unmarried, didn’t have romantic relationships that we know about, and hence were probably not having regular sex.  Besides, the testes rarely empty completely, there’s usually a little left in reserve, as it were.”

 

Mulder wondered which was more surreal, that he was having this conversation with his girlfriend of just a few months or that he was having it while watching her baby, who wasn’t his.

 

“Next, the first victim told his brother that he’d been having strange sex dreams about a woman who seemed as real to him as anyone else in his life.  I couldn’t find anything like that about the second victim—so far.  The deputies and Steve are still interviewing his friends and family, and I did request that they ask that question.”

 

“Huh.  What are you thinking?”

 

“Well, first I want to get the bodies back to Quantico, where I can do more thorough autopsies on them; Hartville Falls, Virginia does not have the best medical facilities,” she said in a dry tone.  “I don’t think they’ve updated their clinic since 1970.”

 

“So still no cause of death?”

 

“Nothing I can find.  Their hearts stopped beating, they stopped breathing, brain activity ceased, but they kept their erections without any semen,” she said, clearly frustrated.  “Doesn’t make any sense—yet.  I’m sure I’ll figure it out with better medical equipment, though.  I suspect the tox screen will show something.”

 

Mulder’s attention snapped to the baby when William whimpered and moved in his sleep, then quieted.  “So when are you heading back?”

 

“The bodies are being shipped today, but I want to tie up some loose ends here so we’ll drive back in the morning when we’re fresh and rested; it’s been a long day,” she said.  “That ok?”

 

“Sure, of course.  I’m glad you don’t have to stay any longer, I’m already missing you.”

 

“Ditto,” she said softly.  “Do you realize that this will only be the fourth time we’ve spent the night apart since we… got together?”

 

He smiled, glad she was keeping score.  “Yeah.  I did.  I think about that a lot.”  It had taken them a while to go from platonic to something more, but since they’d begun sleeping together two months ago both had been insatiable.  Up to three times a day, especially on the weekends, was not unusual, and he was eternally grateful that she wanted it as much as he did.  In fact, she started things just as often as he, which made him feel needed and desired in a way he never had before with anyone else.

 

“Well, I just finished my dinner and want to get back to the sheriff’s department and see if they came up with anything else,” she said.  He could hear the rustling of paper in the background.  It didn’t sound like she was in a restaurant, so he guessed that she had gone back to her motel room with a salad like she often had when they worked together.  “Steve’s still there.  Then I’m going to bed early so we can start back first thing.”

 

“I can’t wait to see you,” he said suggestively, already planning to head back to her apartment as soon as William woke up.  Dana had originally said that she might be gone as long as a week, which was why he’d dragged the kid and all his stuff to Hegel Place.  Though she’d never expressly forbid it, Mulder suspected that she thought his apartment was too messy for a six-month-old.  And while he could use her computer to do his research, it was easier on his. 

 

“Just the sound of your voice makes me want to head back tonight,” she said huskily.  “But I’d be too tired to do anything, so I’ll see you in the morning.  I told Skinner I was going straight to Quantico when we got in, but I don’t think he’ll have a problem with me stopping in to see William—if he even finds out.  I’ll drop Steve at the Hoover and head home from there.”

 

“What time do you think you’ll be here?” Mulder said.  “I’ll try to time William’s nap for then.”

 

“Probably about ten, no later than ten-thirty.  I can’t wait to see you.”

 

“Same here,” he said, smiling.  “Mañana, Dana.”

 

“Tomorrow, Mulder. “

 

He pushed down the antenna and hit the end button on his cellular, then set it on the edge of the desk.  Though he’d been out of the FBI and off the X-Files for well over a year Dana kept him well-informed, and several of her cases were going into his newest book.  Though she was just as skeptical as ever and her partner didn’t seem to care one way or another, she still gave him plenty of good fodder to research and write about.  Speaking of… William was still out so Mulder turned to his computer to continue researching psychics with Ask Jeeves, his favorite search engine, which was what he had been doing before the phone call.  He did, however, keep getting distracted by thinking about what would happen when Dana got home tomorrow, and had quite the struggle to keep his mind on what he was doing.

 

*           *           *

 

“Jesus, I guess you did miss me.” Mulder smiled over at Dana, squeezing her hand.  They were sprawled naked on her bed with sweat drying on their bare bodies, William sleeping in his room two closed doors away though the baby monitor would alert them if he woke up.  They tended to have rather noisy sex.  “Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”

 

Dana smiled back, her face flushed and hair beautifully mussed.  She pressed his hand in return, then sat up with a groan.  “I’d better shower and get going, I’m surprised Skinner hasn’t called to find out where I am.” She sighed as she let go of him and scooted off the bed.  “I talked to him last night and he wanted to know any results as soon as I got them from the second autopsies.”

 

Mulder bounced off the bed behind her and followed her into the bathroom.  “So, how much of a rush are you in?” he said, pushing up against her as she bent over to start the taps.  To their mutual delight he was already half-hard again even though they had finished just a short time ago.  “William should sleep a bit longer…”

 

It was close; no sooner were they out of the shower than her cellular began ringing and while she answered it, William woke up hungry and in full cry.  Mulder went to get him wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. 

 

“That was Skinner, I knew it,” she said as she came into the baby’s room, wearing a thick white terrycloth robe and toweling her damp hair.  She’d tried not to get it wet but hadn’t been completely successful in the throes of passion.  “There’s my big man!” she crooned, leaning over the baby as Mulder finished changing his diaper.  She tossed the towel into the baby hamper by the doorway, then scooped him up even before his sleeper was snapped.  She cuddled the baby on her shoulder and kissed the side of his head over his sparse reddish-blonde hair.  William bounced and cooed and gurgled, waving his hands happily. 

 

This was the time Mulder enjoyed, watching her with her son.  It mattered less and less to him that the kid wasn’t his; he was hers and that was what mattered.

 

“I told Skinner that I stopped home to check on William, and he said to be at Quantico no later than noon,” she said, bouncing the baby in her arms as he began to fuss again.  “I wonder what he’d think if he knew you were the one watching him?”

 

Mulder barked a laugh as he followed her out of the room, then went to get dressed while she took the baby to the kitchen for his bottle.  “I doubt he’d believe it.”

 

Once Dana had left for Quantico and he was again alone with the baby, Mulder decided to take him to the park.  William couldn’t do much yet, but he did like the swings.  And truth be told, Mulder didn’t mind the attention he got from all the moms, though his heart was firmly with Dana.

 

By the time they got back he was yawning right along with William, and decided to nap while the baby was sleeping.  Leaving both bedroom doors open so he’d hear when the kid woke, he removed his jeans and t-shirt and sprawled on the unmade bed, reminding himself to make it once he got up.

 

The dream that began as soon as he went under was unlike any other he’d ever had.  It featured him in a desert tent, a dry gusting wind rattling the canvas sides, not opulently decorated like in the movies but with thick, beautiful Oriental rugs on the floor, brocaded pillows tossed everywhere, filigreed metal lamps hanging from the ceiling, a flickering bronze brazier in the middle burning with rich-smelling incense, and a raised platform covered in thick animal furs and more overstuffed pillows.  Mulder found himself reclining back on a stack of pillows on the bed or couch or whatever it was.  He was naked, and the softness of the furs beneath his body was sinfully decadent.  As he watched, a woman came through the tent flap, letting it fall closed behind her.  It was difficult for him to tell if she was tall or short, but she was amazingly proportioned.  The arousing, topless belly-dancer’s dress she wore, which was no more than a tiny golden chain around her waist from which descended multicolored, filmy skirts, showed her outline clearly. 

 

Her body was amazing, exceptionally voluptuous with wide hips beneath an incredibly tiny waist and breasts large enough that they should have been sagging to her waist, but they didn’t.  They were rather bullet-shaped instead of round, with tiny, dark pink hard nipples.  His hands itched to get on them, to feel the firm softness.  She also had rather broad shoulders for a woman, but he didn’t find that unattractive.  Her belly wasn’t flat but softly convex above taut abs, and as she began to move his eyes were drawn to it.   He couldn’t help but think of how warmly it would cushion him when he was between her legs.  Her skin was a rich, dusky bronze, and it gleamed in the flickering firelight.

 

Her face was stunningly lovely, with slightly tilted, large dark eyes fringed by thick black lashes, a small nose, and full, pillowy red lips.  A fine golden chain circled her forehead over her waterfall of thick jet-black hair which fell nearly to the tops of her thighs.

 

She began to move, gyrating towards him with her hips circling, the flaring skirts giving arousing glimpses of her long legs—her thighs were rather heavy but he didn’t find that off-putting either—then whirled with one arm over her head and the other behind her back and next thing he knew, one of the skirts had floated down onto the bed nearby.  Somehow he knew she was doing the ancient Dance of the Seven Veils for him, and his arousal rose even more though he’d been hard from the moment she stepped into the tent.  He picked up the piece of material, putting it to his nose and inhaling it, feeling his heart begin to pound even harder at the scent of musky, pure aroused woman soaked into it.

 

When she turned her back to him, still gyrating, his eyes went to her ass which, though wide, was beautifully curved and perfectly in proportion to her frame.  He itched to sink his fingers into that flawless skin.  But he couldn’t move as she went on with her dance, whirling sensually as she flipped veil after veil off the belt and away from herself.  When she was naked except for the fine golden chain, she shimmied in place and did the single most sensuous dance that Mulder had ever seen, centering on her hips.  Her breasts barely moved, yet her entire body was gyrating.  He’d never seen anyone with such fine muscle control before, and it fired him past the brink of being civilized.  But before he could jump from the couch and onto her, she leapt toward him and made every one of his unvoiced sexual fantasies come true.

 

*           *           *

 

He woke confused and dazed to hear William screaming his head off and, for just a moment, Mulder was scared.  Rolling off the bed he found that his legs were weak and rubbery but made himself keep going.  He stumbled into the baby’s room across the hall leaning against the walls and holding onto the doorways and even so, almost fell twice as his legs collapsed beneath him.  William was red-faced and shrieking, waving his chubby tiny arms and kicking, but calmed to hiccupping sniffles once he saw Mulder’s face appear over the edge of the crib. 

 

“Hey, buddy, hey, it’s all right,” Mulder said shakily, reaching down and rubbing the baby's little round stomach gently.  “What’s wrong?  Did you have a nightmare too?”

 

William’s little blue pants were soaked, and as he felt the baby Mulder discovered that he was wet from feet to halfway up his chest as well as all around him.  A sniff of his fingers confirmed that it was urine, and he realized that he must have slept through the baby’s crying for quite a while if William had not only soaked his diaper but the bed and himself too.  Possibly a couple of hours by the looks of things.

 

 _Dana would kill me if she saw this_ , he realized, and knew that he had to get it all cleaned up before she got home.  Which was in a couple of hours, he saw from the Elmo clock over the changing table.  He appeared to have slept at least three hours.  But he felt so weak that he could barely stand, and was afraid to pick up the baby.  He didn’t want him to start howling again, however—it was a miracle that no one in the building had called the police—so first he stripped the urine-soaked clothes William had worn to the park from his pudgy body, changed his diaper, then rolled him to one end of the crib while he stripped the wet bedding from the mattress.  He got a clean baby blanket and rolled him onto that rather than have him lay on the wet bare mattress, tossing the sheets into the hamper by the doorway.  Then he wiped the worst of the urine from the baby’s soft skin with a handful of baby wipes.  William was fussing, chewing on his fist in lieu of a pacifier, but not outright crying, as all this went on. 

 

“Okay, I feel better, let’s get you fed,” Mulder said, reaching down to pick him up.  His arms still felt rubbery, but he had no problem picking up the baby and holding him against his shoulder as he took him into the kitchen.

 

Luckily Dana was insistent about keeping two extra bottles in the fridge at all times since she’d stopped breast-feeding a few weeks ago, so he nuked one and fed William sitting on the couch holding him close.  He felt embarrassed and ashamed, wondering why in the hell he’d had that crazy sex dream about a woman he’d never seen before, or even fantasized about, to the point where he’d slept through the baby’s crying.  He was a light sleeper and often woke at the little guy’s tiniest whimper when he was taking care of him. 

 

The baby dozed off before finishing the bottle so Mulder burped him, then laid him in his playpen in the living room, covering his mostly-naked body with a light blanket before going to clean up the rest of the mess.  Never was he so glad that Dana had invested in an apartment-sized stacked washer and dryer as he was now.  He tossed in all of the wet baby clothes and bedding, even what was in the hamper, figuring that would earn him brownie points, and cleaned the mattress with Clorox wipes before putting on a clean sheet.  Then he made Dana's bed, though he was far too exhausted to change the sheets like he’d planned.

 

He collapsed on the couch as he was still feeling fatigued and somewhat weak, and wondered if he was coming down with something.  Almost before he knew it he heard the sound of the key in the lock, and heaved himself up off the couch with an effort.  “Hey Dana, how was your day?”

 

“Why is William sleeping out here?” she said as she came in, her eyes zeroing in on the blanket-covered lump in the playpen at the far end of the couch. 

 

“He peed through his diaper during his afternoon nap and I was going to give him a bath, but he fell asleep again while I was feeding him,” Mulder said.  He knew that while Dana wasn’t good at lying, she was damn good at catching liars so a partial truth was better than an outright lie.  “I did all of his laundry while I was at it, it’s in the dryer now.”

 

“Well thank you.” She smiled, setting her briefcase down in front of the big wooden cabinet next to the door and slipping her shoes off, setting them beside it.  “I’m kind of tired, it was a long day. Want to order in?”

 

He leaned down to kiss her, more relieved than he would have cared to admit that disaster had been averted.  “Even better, why don’t I go pick up that Thai you like?”

 

She was studying his face, then raised a hand and felt his forehead, letting her hand trail down the side of his face.  “You look tired, Mulder, are you feeling all right?”

 

“I was really tired when I woke from my nap and was kind of wondering if I was coming down with something, but I’m not sneezing or coughing,” he said with total honesty, leaning his face into her hand.  “I still feel kinda wiped, though.”

 

“You’re not feverish, but why take chances.  Let’s have the deli deliver some soup and sandwiches, and hit the sack early,” she said, reaching up to kiss him briefly before moving away.  “Could just be a 24-hour bug of some kind.”

 

Though he hid it from her, Mulder felt absolutely exhausted, like he did sometimes when he pushed himself too hard running or playing basketball if his team was losing.  Truth be told, he thought to himself as they cleaned up after dinner, he felt worse than that.  He felt as if all the energy that usually filled his body had drained out his feet and was not being replaced.

 

Normally when he spent the night at her place Mulder would cajole Dana into hitting the sack early for a little naked pretzel right after the baby went down for the night, but this time he was so tired he headed off to bed before either of them. 

 

He woke early, before the alarm she always set, and while still mostly asleep decided to make up for crashing out on Dana.  She was a warm sleeping lump next to him under the sheet and lightweight summer blanket, and he rolled over and spooned around her.  He nestled his groin into the warmth of her soft bottom, then reached around to cup one breast, teasing the nipple gently.  That reminded him that he’d had another of those weird 101 Arabian Nights sex dreams during the night, though he didn’t remember it clearly.  He banished it from his mind as Dana stretched, then rolled onto her back so he had better access to her body.  Though she hadn’t cared for morning sex before they got together, she’d admitted, he’d changed her mind about it. 

 

“More like it, Mulder,” she mumbled sleepily as he got up on one elbow and leaned over her.  “I was lonely last night.”

 

“Feel fine now,” he said, though as he woke up more he was realizing that the weakness from the day before was still with him.  But he wasn’t about to let it stop him, not now that he’d started.  Yet as things went on, he realized that nothing was happening down below with him—not a pang or a twitch.  That was very unusual; normally he wanted Dana with a deep, bottomless yearning that was only satisfied temporarily when they both came to completion.  By the time she was writhing and moaning softly under her breath from his ministrations he was still completely limp and rather than call her attention to it, he decided on an alternate plan. 

 

By the time the baby began to fuss he had given her three orgasms with his mouth and had planned on more, but stopped once William woke up.  “Mulder… come up here,” she said dazedly, holding out her arms as he sat back on his knees between her legs. 

 

“Sorry—hearing the baby crying unfortunately killed the mood for me,” he lied, since this wouldn’t have been their first quickie before William went from snuffling to full cry.  “Rain check for tonight?”

 

“Mmn, you know it,” she sighed, rolling to the edge of the bed without glancing at him, to his vast relief. 

 

He made a point of showering while she was caring for the baby though they often showered together. Out of curiosity he tried taking care of himself but nothing, not even stroking his balls or tweaking his nipples evoked any feeling or reaction.    He remained limp as a wet noodle, with some length but without any get up and go.  He knew this happened to men sometimes—though it never had to him before—so he decided to shrug it off and try again that night.

 

Dana took William to daycare that morning, saying that Mulder needed a break and it wouldn’t kill her son to spend a day or two away from both of them.  He was relieved that she hadn’t asked him to watch the baby again as he was uncomfortable with it after the previous day’s fiasco.  Though she preferred that her mom or Mulder watch William while she was at work, she did trust the GSA-run daycare that the FBI provided upon occasion.

 

After she left for work he headed home, still feeling drained and tired.  As he was walking across the foyer, too bushed to even check and see if he had mail, the door across from the elevator opened to show his elderly neighbor’s wizened face.  “Agent Mulder!” she cackled, waving madly.  “Watch out that his tail don’t get caught in the doors.”

 

“What, Mrs. Weaver?” he said wearily, wondering if he was that exhausted or was she really not making any sense.

 

“Your black cat.  He’s right next to you.  And I promise not to tell Mr. Clements, you know we’re not supposed to have pets.”

 

He looked down, but there was no cat at his feet, black or otherwise.  “I don’t own a cat, Mrs. Weaver.”

 

“You don’t own cats, cats own you.”  She chortled again, then closed the door.  Just another surreal day in the life of Fox Mulder, he thought with a mental eye roll.

 

He hadn’t gone for a run in three days but just the thought exhausted him, though he did consider going to the Y for a swim.  Too much trouble, he decided as he dragged into his apartment, dropping his overnight bag in the middle of the entranceway, and went to flop on the couch without removing anything but his shoes.  Sleep was more of what he needed, even though he’d slept nearly eleven hours yesterday all told.

 

He dozed off almost right away and found himself in the desert tent again, recognizing the dry, astringent smell of the wilderness plants and sand.  Wind flapped the canvas sides.  Once again he couldn’t move but as the tent flap pushed forward to show his mystery woman, he was able to talk.  “Why am I here?”  he said, feeling himself grow hard without any problem, unlike that morning.  He wanted her so badly, more than anything else in his life at the moment, but he was confused about it.  “What do you want with me?”

 

The dark woman didn’t answer, just began to gyrate towards him, hips pumping and shoulders shimmying while fingering her skirts of pastel veils, her funnel-shaped, maroon-tipped breasts leading the way.  Mulder was aware that he was dreaming and tried to wake himself up, but even as the thought crossed his mind, the woman laughed with a voice like muted bronze bells.  She shook her head, the thick, inky hair shaking around her broad shoulders and tiny waist, and proceeded to have her way with him—again.

 

*           *           *

 

He slept until almost noon the next day, and was so exhausted when he woke up that he was afraid he’d lose control of his bladder before he managed to made it to the bathroom on shaky legs.  While there, he drank water from his cupped hands right out of the tap since he didn’t have a glass in the bathroom and was so thirsty his throat felt like it was full of sand.

 

There were three voice messages from Dana on his cell and two on his answering machine, but he was too tired to call her back.  Instead he hit the couch again and sank into a drained, dreamless sleep.

 

When he next woke after six, he felt somewhat better and returned Dana’s calls, saying that he was sleeping off the beginnings of a cold and would see her the next day.  She was concerned and disappointed, but understanding.  He was very hungry and thirsty but fell asleep thinking about getting up for something to eat and drink.

 

He woke to a tongue licking his neck and almost scrambled away, thinking it was the smoky desert woman but then he recognized Dana’s unmistakable scent which was usually citrus, rather than the musky scent of the temptress.   He groaned and opened his eyes to a headful of bright auburn hair; Dana was kneeling next to the couch and touching him nowhere but where her tongue was licking up his neck.  “How are you feeling, Mulder?” she rasped, the feeling of her lips on his skin causing a shiver to go through him. 

 

Clearing his throat, he said, “Tired, but not _that_ tired.”  He loved it when Dana initiated sex and always responded, partly because she turned him on that much and partly so that she’d keep doing it.   His mouth was dry and he had to go to the bathroom again, but he wanted to make it clear that he wasn’t stopping her before he mentioned that.  He also wanted a slug of mouthwash; he loved to kiss her and wouldn’t—

 

Dana slid her hand down the front of his jeans since his zipper was undone.  She grasped him and squeezed; though he felt it, there was no sense of arousal or anything down there.  Even the light pressure of her hand on his abdomen almost made him lose control of his bladder, it was so full.

 

“Uh, I really need to use the bathroom,” he rasped, trying to get up but unable to even lift himself on his arms.  It was then that he remembered everything: his exhaustion, inability to get an erection, and worst of all, the insane sex dreams. 

 

Her tongue left his neck and her hand pulled out of his pants.  “Mulder, I know something’s wrong, but not what.” She sat back on her heels and gave him a stern look.  “You haven’t asked me about the case in two days, not to mention not being interested in sex, so I know something’s not right.  Spill.”

 

Mulder was still half asleep and so tired he could barely keep his eyes open and blurted the truth.  “I’m having crazy sex dreams about some woman I’ve never met, and when I wake up I’m so fucking tired I can barely move.  And I can’t… can’t seem to get hard.”

 

“Oh my God!”  Dana shot to her feet, staring down at him in shock.  “That’s exactly what the two victims reported!  Mulder, you must have caught it from me—whatever it is, it must be contagious, maybe something that only men get the effect of but women carry— “

 

“I doubt that; I’m thinking it might be a genii of some sort… or a succubus.” Mulder said, lifting himself into an upright sitting position with what felt like superhuman effort.  “I did research on succubae and incubi a while time ago for a case, and I’m thinking this might fit the profile.  I’d need to read up more, though, I never finished the research.”

 

“Mulder!  It’s not a made-up demon, it’s something physical.” Dana pushed him to sit back and gave him a quick physical once-over, which he would have enjoyed much more if he’d been able to respond.  “Have you been having normal morning erections?”

 

He felt his face grow warm with a combination of mortification and awkwardness, and hoped he wasn’t blushing.  But he knew she was asking for a purely medical reason.  “Not in the last few days, no, I haven’t gotten it up since… since the morning you got back,” he said with dawning realization.  “After you left for work I took William to the park and when we got back, I put him to bed and took a nap.  That was the first time I had that crazy dream but every time I’ve slept since then, it happens again.  Right now I’m so drained I don’t know if I can stand up, and I really have to pee.”

 

“Do you need me to help you to the bathroom?”

 

“If you would—I’ll be OK once I’m in there, but I feel so weak… by the way, where’s William?”

 

“With my mom.  Don’t worry, she’s keeping him overnight.  I told her you were sick and I was staying to take care of you.”

 

He glanced at the VCR, seeing that it was eight— _in the morning_.  Then he realized that it must be Saturday if Dana was here. HOW long had he slept?

 

She knew how to support a larger person’s weight and had no problem getting him into the bathroom, then helped him get his pants and underwear down before leaving.  He sat on the toilet to piss, humiliated but trying to reason with himself that there really _was_ something wrong with him.  Whether it was nocturnal attacks by a very sexy, exotic she-demon or some senseless new virus that only targeted men remained to be seen. 

 

He managed to walk out on his own, then paused in the doorway hanging onto the molding and let her support him back to the couch.  “So what do we do?” he asked almost fearfully, looking up at her with worried eyes. 

 

She went back to his computer where she was logged into a medical site as far as he could tell from where he sat.  “Well… nothing so far…” she said in a worried tone as she typed.   “It’s not a sleep disorder, and you have no symptoms other than the fatigue and lack of erections to stimuli.”

 

“Look up succubae, specifically Middle Eastern, maybe Arabian,” he said, remembering what the tent and the darkly sensual woman looked like.  She glanced over at him disbelievingly and he added, “Humor me.”

 

He sat back and scrubbed his face with his hands; he was really thirsty but didn’t want to ask her to get him a glass of water nor was he up to getting one for himself. 

 

“Well… I still don’t think… but the symptoms match,” Dana said grudgingly a short time later, turning the monitor towards him.  Out loud she read, “’In Arabian mythology, the qarînah is a spirit similar to the succubus, with origins possibly in ancient Egyptian religion or in the animistic beliefs of pre-Islamic Arabia..  A qarînah has relations with its victim during sleep as is known by the dreams.  They are said to be invisible, but a person with second sight can see them, often in the form of a cat, dog, or other household pet.’”

 

“Son of a bitch!” Mulder managed to sit forward, pointing towards the front of the building, his arm shaking with exhaustion.  “When I got home yesterday, or whatever day it was, Mrs. Weaver downstairs said that she could see a black cat standing by me.  I thought she was just nuts.”

 

She stared at him for a beat, then shook her head and turned back to the monitor.  She continued, “’Qarînah are often depicted as beautiful and voluptuous, with wide hips, narrow waists, broad shoulders, and exaggerated, spherical breasts.’”

 

“That describes her to a T.  And rather heavy thighs.”

 

Dana went on without a comment, though he thought he saw her roll her eyes.  “Here’s more on succubae in general.  ’A succubus collects semen from the men she seduces. The incubi or male demons then use the semen to impregnate human females, thus explaining how demons could apparently sire children despite the traditional belief that they were incapable of reproduction. Children so begotten – cambions – were supposed to be those that were born deformed, or more susceptible to supernatural influences.’”

 

“Well that explains it—she steals our sperm so we have none left, and can’t get a woody,” Mulder said with relief.  “’We’ being me and the other two victims.”

 

“You know, demons were simply an excuse to explain things that people of the time didn’t understand, such as nocturnal emissions and rabies,” she said with some exasperation. 

 

“Not all of them, I’m thinking.  This is real, Dana, not me being a smartass,” he said almost desperately.  “What do we do about it?”

 

He unthinkingly smacked his lips and without a word, Dana got up and brought back two glasses of water.  He nodded thanks and chugged one, then took a sip out of the other before she picked it up to take a drink and set it down closer to him.   “Mulder, I—“

 

“Look, I know you think I’m batcrap crazy, but bear with me, okay?  If the… cure… for a succubus doesn’t work, you can take me to the hospital to be checked out.”

 

She pursed her lips, clearly not pleased.  “So what _is_ the cure for succubus attacks?”

 

“Be damned if I know.  I never got that far in my research because it turned out to be a jealous ex sneaking into the guy’s bed at night if I remember correctly.  And I usually do.”

 

Dana huffed and turned back to the computer.  “For now, don’t go back to sleep,” she said.  “You shouldn’t have coffee, it’s dehydrating, but let me know if you need it.”

 

His stomach growled loudly, startling them both.  He’d been so intent on figuring out what was happening to him that he hadn’t been paying attention to his gut gnawing a hole in his backbone. 

 

“Mulder, when was the last time you ate?”

 

He shrugged.  “Dinner at your place… when was that?”

 

“Two days ago,” she said with concern.  “What do you have here to eat?”

 

“There was bread and lunchmeat, crackers, and maybe a can of soup or two, last I knew.  But I don’t know how of it much is still good.”

 

He made himself sit up on the edge of the couch, sipping from the second glass of water, as she went off into the kitchen.  He was beginning to feel a little stronger after getting hydrated, so he carefully moved to the desk chair holding onto the coffee table and arm of the couch.   He felt as weak as a newborn kitten but refused to let it stop him.  The site Dana was getting information from on the succubus was a college mysticism course syllabus, from a major religious college he noted. 

 

When Dana came back into the living room a short time later carrying a plate with a steaming bowl and two sandwiches on it he was back on the couch, shaking with faintness.  “What’s wrong?” she asked with alarm, setting the plate down. 

 

“I got up and did some research on the computer, and I’m so tired and weak I can barely keep my eyes open,” he admitted grudgingly.

 

“Hang on, I’ve got coffee brewing—start on that and I’ll be right back.”

 

He forced his tired muscles to reach out, and was surprised to find that the sandwiches were tuna salad, the soup appearing to be vegetable or something similar by the smell.  “Where did the tuna come from?” he asked as he picked up a piece of a sandwich—she had cut them into triangles, probably to fit better on the plate around the bowl.  “I know I didn’t buy it.  I like tuna, but I always forget to get it when I’m at the store.”

 

“I brought over a couple of packs of ready-made tuna salad some time ago,” her disembodied voice called from the kitchen.  “I figured there would be a day we’d be over here with nothing to eat, and they would work.  I just put it on bread instead of the crackers that came with it.  Be glad of preservatives, the bread was a week past the sell-by date but fine.”

 

The more he ate the stronger he felt and by the time Dana came back with two mugs of coffee, all but one quarter of the sandwiches were gone, although the soup was still too hot to eat.  She perched on the edge of the couch next to him.  “So what did you find out?”

 

“Not much of help.  Supposedly wearing a pearl, lotus petal, or dreamcatcher around my neck will help keep the succubus away, as it can’t touch anything pure or reach through the ‘catcher.  Putting a dreamcatcher above the bed will keep them away as well.  They can’t cross a line of salt and are burned by holy water.” He paused for the last bite of his sandwich, then picked up the spoon to try the soup.  His arm no longer shook though he still felt more fatigued than he liked.  “But I didn’t see anything on how to totally defeat the succubus and keep it away for good.”

 

She huffed, but didn’t comment.

 

“Lore also says that a true believer can pray the demon away, but I’m an agnostic,” he said apologetically.  “I guess you could try, but I think it has to be the victim.”

 

Dana took a sip of her coffee, then sat back with it cupped between her palms, resting against her flat stomach.  “Well, we can start with the, uh, charms.  I don’t have a pearl necklace, but I do have earrings and I’m sure we can rig one onto a chain to put around your neck.  Although I may have another idea.  But one more dream, Mulder, and to the hospital you go.  I’m not taking any chances.”

 

*           *           *

 

Mulder woke feeling good and immediately realized that he hadn’t had _that_ dream.  He opened his eyes to a plain white ceiling, then rolled over to see Dana sitting in the straight-backed chair next to her dresser, holding a book and looking at him expectantly.  Then he remembered: They had decided that it was best she monitored him at her house, so he was in her bed and she was watching over him as he slept to see if the succubus tried to come back.  “So?”

 

“Nothing,” he rasped, then cleared his throat.  “I guess it worked.”  He reached across his body with his right hand, feeling the small bandage on his left shoulder.  Though he couldn’t see it, he thought the tiny tattoo of a dreamcatcher was the best idea that Dana had ever had; well, besides being with him.

 

“How do you feel?”

 

“Pretty good.  Not so tired.  Hungry again.” He grinned as he sat up and swung his legs out of bed.  “And, best of all…”  He stood up and pulled down the front of his boxer-briefs proudly.  “I am back in action.”

 

Dana smiled up at him, then stood and tossed her book aside.  “William’s still at my mom’s.  Just how hungry are you?”

 

_finis_

 

 


End file.
